What is it about getting on a plane alone and going 14 time zones away that takes my breath away? Maybe this is what it feels like to go bungee jumping, I wouldn’t know—but this is how I get my fix.

All the dreary “I suffer, therefore I am” feelings of earlier this summer vanish like smoke in the wind. I am anonymous in a diverse sea of strangers. So many languages I don’t understand swirl around me. I can be whoever I want. There’s a bounce in my step. The world is my oyster. Danger lurks. I might get sick. I might get my wallet or phone stolen. I might get lost. All of those things have happened to me while traveling, and I am a better person for it. What will it be this time?

Having survived the first two legs of the journey I am now in Seoul, whose name feels symbolic to me. Everything is so modern and clean; you can practically take a shower in the public restroom; I couldn’t resist trying all the bidet features even though I couldn’t read the Korean.

I was even treated to an airport flash mob of young people performing martial arts and acrobatics!

The last flight from Seoul to Hanoi was uneventful, though I couldn’t figure out where to meet my driver for a while. No worries; the ladies at the airport post office helped me make some calls and the driver magically appeared.

It’s tropical and muggy but Vietnam, my 24th country but first communist one, seems very cosmopolitan and safe.

Tucked in my hotel room after a bath and a beer, I am living my best life!